


goodnight stars (goodnight moon)

by backdoor (symmetrophobic)



Series: with me now (and forever) [1]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Gen, M/M, alternatively titled this is woochanlix's world and we're just living in it, family au, part of a series, the other members will have great introductions in future instalments i promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:37:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22086778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/symmetrophobic/pseuds/backdoor
Summary: Chan has to pause what he’s doing, save his track and take off his headset before even beginning to address that statement.“Thewhat?”“The dad hug. You know, when he hugs you, and you feel all safe and warm and sleepy,” Jisung throws his arms around himself, beaming. “When Woojin hyung hugs you, it’s like all your problems disappear. It feels like you have nothing to worry about ever again.”
Relationships: Bang Chan & Lee Felix, Bang Chan/Kim Woojin, Kim Woojin & Lee Felix
Series: with me now (and forever) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1589818
Comments: 40
Kudos: 237





	goodnight stars (goodnight moon)

**Author's Note:**

> so this is the first (but also not the first) of the skz family!au series i'll be posting! ;u;
> 
> series notes!!  
\- there are many more instalments planned yesyes, during which i'll introduce the remaining skz members to the universe and also have more actual family scenes instead of just woochan gazing into each others' eyes woohoo  
\- i originally intended to start the series with a proper introduction for babylix, but it's pretty dark and i thought, you know what, stays went through hell in 2019, we deserve to start the new year on a better note  
\- so that will be posted later yes  
\- pls enjoy!!

“Felix. _Felix,_” Chan sighs in exasperation as the boy slips nimbly through his hands once again, screeching and giggling as he tears across the living room towards the kitchen doorway. “No Felix, we’re not playing anymore. It’s time to go to bed.”

“No!” The four-year-old runs into the kitchen with a patter of tiny feet, still giggling.

Chan is relegated to cleaning up the living room while Felix waltzes around his room, bouncing off his bed and the alphabet foam mat. This is, of course, until the door opens sometime around nine-thirty, and Chan cries out in relief when Woojin walks through, hanging his keys by the doorway.

“_Woojin_. Help,” he whines, voice overshadowed by the sound of more delighted giggling, as Felix comes cannonballing out of his room and into Woojin’s knees. “I’ve been trying for an _hour_.”

The other man laughs, lifting Felix up and toeing off his shoes. The little boy gathered in his arms, he pads over to where Chan is standing, defeated and exhausted and smelling faintly of detergent, nudging his arm gently. “Go take a shower, Chan.”

*

Chan doesn’t exactly remember how it started, and Jisung suggests that it’s probably because it’s always been this way.

Woojin’s work schedule, according to Chan, is just like Woojin – about as unpredictable and risky as a balloted government bond. His days start at 830 and end at 530, after which he usually comes straight home because most of his friends have kids too, and hence lack the time and disposable income for fun. Exceptions like tonight are usually a result of company dinners with compulsory attendance they’re forced to attend.

Chan, on the other hand, doesn’t have a schedule. His days can start anytime between 6 in the morning to 10 at night. He works on his music mostly from home, thanks to pulling some strings with his studio, but if there are recordings or meetings, it’s mostly in the afternoon or evening. He’s paid to have _fun_ with clients and make sure they have fun too, which automatically makes it not fun.

According to Felix, Chan is Sunny Daddy. Woojin, on the other hand, is-...

“_Banjjak appa_,” the little boy had proudly proclaimed one Saturday afternoon at an ice-cream parlour, automatically making Chan choke on his exotic fruit smoothie.

“Twinkle dad,” Woojin repeats blandly, and Chan kicks him under the table.

“Like the song!” Felix finds it necessary to explain. Immediately, his hands do the obligatory sparkle dance. “Twinkle twinkle little star~”

Chan reaches over to catch Felix’s mini sundae before it can topple. “That’s very nice, Felix. But why...?”

“Because,” Felix frowns and pauses, like he does whenever he’s attempting to express himself in exclusively one language. “Dad is sunny day, and Appa is night time.”

“You mean, the times that we’re home with you?”

“Yes,” Felix swipes Chan’s smoothie, legs kicking out, giggling when Chan frowns at him.

“Maybe that’s why he won’t sleep when you put him to bed,” Woojin grins, over his scoop of vanilla ice cream.

“Rubbish,” the other man sighs, word morphing into a yawn. Woojin watches him with a disarmingly attractive muted fondness, one hand finding its way to lay over Chan’s. “I can totally put Felix to bed. I just haven’t tried hard enough.”

*

By the time Chan emerges from the shower, stumbling and wandering, Felix’s door is shut, and the living room lights are dimmed.

He tiptoes towards the room, opening the door just a crack, enough to feel the cool rush of air-conditioning in summer against his face. The lights are off, room gently illuminated by the glow of Felix’s Pororo nightlight, and a barely audible humming reaches his ears.

Not jealous at all, he watches Woojin lift Felix from the hip carrier, gently rolling the sleeping boy onto the mattress, tucking him in with his blanket and toys.

“You look like you could use a lullaby too,” the other man smiles, unstrapping the hip carrier in one smooth motion as he walks out of the room. Chan sighs – _get you a man who looks this hot wearing a baby carrier._

“I could use some sleep. For like, ten,” he yawns again. “Years.”

“No luck on that front?”

“Boss wants the songs in two weeks. Gotta submit it to the head producer before that,” Chan says morosely, rubbing his eyes. A rush of comfort flows through him when Woojin laughs, pulling him in for a quick kiss.

“Go save the world,” Woojin heads for the shower, throwing him a finger heart over his shoulder.

“Thanks, Twinkle Dad,” Chan grumbles, shuffling back to their room.

*

It’s a busy week for Chan after that – they have to call in Felix’s sitter, a high schooler named Yuna who likes making dinosaur chicken nuggets and ketchup smiley omelette rice for Felix, for a few of his half-day afternoons spent home from the day care.

Chan stumbles in past midnight one night, surprised to see Felix’s door still open, and the living room lights dimmed. Is Felix sleeping in their room with Woojin, or something?

It ends up taking him a whole circuit of the kitchen and the bedrooms, before he finally comes out at the right angle and spots a long blanket lump on the couch, camouflaged into the soft grey of the sofa.

Woojin is fast asleep, lips parted, shoulders rising and falling gently with every breath, and curled up like a tiny kitten on his chest, tufty black hair poking out from the blanket, is Felix, snoring gently.

Despite the extreme exhaustion, then, Chan immediately ticks one thing off his bucket list by tiptoeing over and proceeding to take about a billion photos from multiple angles, sending them to Jisung with a long string of heart eye and crying emojis.

Then he moves onto the next thing on his bucket list, leaning over carefully, then pressing his lips to Woojin’s to kiss him awake.

Unlike every movie he’s ever watched, Woojin startles awake with an unattractive snort at the oxygen supply cutoff, and Chan has to stifle his laughter at the half-asleep, betrayed look on his face.

Felix lifts his head blearily, then, hair sticking up on one side, and Chan presses another kiss on his cheek. “Go back to sleep baby.”

The little boy smiles with his eyes closed, then wipes his cheek on Woojin’s shirt, before going back to sleep.

“Late night?” Woojin rumbles, rubbing his eyes. “’Time is it?”

“Two,” Chan admits. _Forty-five._ “Why’d you fall asleep out here?”

“You said you’d be back by eleven,” the other man says petulantly, like a grumpy bear. He sits up, Felix gathered to his chest, the blanket sliding off. “You’ve been coming back late the entire week.”

“Sorry,” Chan says automatically, trailing after them as they move towards Felix’s room. Woojin lets out a soft huff of breath, leaning over and pulling Chan close.

The kiss is soft and gentle, as always, and Chan doesn’t have the strength or the energy to tease like he usually does.

Instead, they part when Felix snuffles, and Woojin pushes Chan towards the shower, dark irises tinged with concern in a way that makes Chan’s heart twinge painfully_._

It’s something he’s not ready to deal with yet, though, so he curls up in bed after his shower before Woojin emerges from Felix’s room, eyes screwed shut.

He waits for the telltale rustle and dip of sheets, waits for the sound of the other man’s breathing to even out, before his eyes flutter open again, and he stares into the darkness, and the quiet of the night takes over.

*

“It’s not your fault. Woojinnie-hyung has the dad hug.”

Chan has to pause what he’s doing, save his track and take off his headset before even beginning to address that statement.

“The _what_?”

“The dad hug. You know, when he hugs you, and you feel all safe and warm and sleepy,” Jisung throws his arms around himself, beaming. “Remember that time we all went bungee jumping and I almost died, and you, Bambam and Yugyeom wouldn’t stop laughing at me when I was crying, and Woojin was the only one who showed any semblance of sympathy towards my mental breakdown? Yeah, he has the dad hug.”

Chan resists the urge to snort. “Okay, yeah. So what does this have to do with anything?”

“I mean, you were wondering why you can’t put Felix to bed, right?”

“What’s wrong with my hug?” Chan opens his arms, flapping them. “I have a great hug.”

“Well, _yeah_, but,” Jisung pushes his arm away with one finger, as though handling an obtusely large, but relatively non-threatening pool noodle. “When Woojin hyung hugs you, it’s like all your problems disappear, you know? It feels like you have nothing to worry about ever again.”

Chan thinks about this. It’s true, and it disturbs him slightly that this is a shared opinion, among many people. Which, of course, is great and all, everyone should know how great Woojin’s hugs are, but he’d been under the impression that the feeling was…special. For him.

“I mean, your hugs are super nice too,” Jisung misinterprets the look on his face. “It’s the mom hug,” when Chan gives him an unimpressed look, he snorts. “You know, your hugs like, tell me that I can solve all my problems if I try hard enough. But Woojin’s hugs,” he shrugs. “They make my problems smaller. I don’t feel scared anymore.”

_Yeah_, Chan finds himself thinking. _When was the last time I hugged Woojin?_

This week has been crazy – he’s usually one foot out the door by the time Woojin gets back from work, and doesn’t get home until the crack of dawn, when Woojin’s leaving the house. _It’s been a while since we hugged._

Chan sinks in his seat, trying to go back to what he was doing earlier. _I miss his hugs._

“…this beat?”

“What?” Chan blinks.

“I was saying,” Jisung pouts. “Do you like this version or this version better?”

“Uhm. Second one,” the older man purses his lips. “Yeah.”

“You okay hyung?” Jisung squints at him, wrinkling his nose. “You’ve kinda been spacing a lot recently.”

“I’m fine,” Chan sighs. “Let’s just finish this track.”

*

“Dad cereal.”

“Hm?”

“Cereal~” Felix sings from the living room, running his car around his radius at the dining table. It’s a rare Saturday morning that Woojin is out, mailing some of Chan’s packages and going for a run. “Cereal cereal milk.”

“Cereal,” Chan repeats, going through the pantry. He realises, after a moment, that there is no cereal. Wow. They’re out.

Right. He was supposed to get cereal yesterday, before going to work. How did he forget that?

He should write it down. Make a memo. Put it on the fridge, or something. Woojin has a handy little magnetic notepad and pen stuck there for this exact purpose.

What was he doing yesterday? He can’t remember all of a sudden. Man. Why can’t he remember? What if he forgets something else important? What if he-…

“…-there, Dad?”

Chan blinks to attention, realising he’s still standing in front of the pantry, staring in. He immediately turns, looking for Felix, who’s still in his booster seat at the dining table outside, watching him cautiously. “Daddy?”

“Yeah,” Chan stands, blinking hard. “Dad’s here. How about,” he pauses, taking longer than usual to force his thoughts in order. “We have some toast instead?”

“Okay,” Felix drums the table contemplatively, before wiggling off his seat and pattering into the kitchen. He holds onto the seam of Chan’s shorts, glancing up at him as though to make sure he’s still there, like he does whenever they’re in crowded places. He beams hopefully at Chan. “Can we have Vegemite?”

“Yeah,” the man rubs his eyes, reconfiguring, before taking down a half loaf of bread from the shelf. _I really should get more sleep. _“Let’s have Vegemite.”

*

It’s four this time, when Chan lets the front door swing shut silently behind him, plodding into the house. The living room lights are off, and Felix’s door is closed. _At least they’re asleep._

He putters about the kitchen for a while, pausing, before pouring some water, pausing again, then taking a sip. Jisung used to joke about him when he was like this, calling it his energy saver mode.

Chan’s so into it he doesn’t hear the quiet footsteps into the kitchen, doesn’t hear the soft inhale, and only realises when a pair of warm arms wrap around him from behind, pressing him gently against the counter.

“Morning,” Woojin yawns, nuzzling into the back of Chan’s neck, and before he can stop himself, Chan sighs.

It just feels so _good_ right then and there, tucked into Woojin’s arms, a bubble of warmth encapsulating him and seeping into the cracks in his soul like warm honey, sweet and soothing. He knows what Jisung means now, how everything else takes a backseat when Woojin is hugging him, how all his problems seem so tiny and insignificant when he’s here with him. He doesn’t worry about the deadline he has next week, or the difficult colleague, or the sickness that’s been stuck with him since he was a kid – right now, he’s happy, and Woojin makes it feel like that’s all that matters.

“Morning,” Chan mumbles back, both hands cupped around his glass of water. They remain silent for a while, before Woojin runs a hand gently down Chan’s shoulder.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Chan tenses up immediately, hackles up like a dog, but Woojin rubs his back with an almost bored familiarity, still nuzzling into him. “Tell you what.”

When Woojin speaks again, his voice is soft. “That your insomnia came back.”

The way he says it makes it sound like a flu, like seasonal allergies, or an annoying aunt, coming around once a year for you to tolerate and then forget about in a couple of weeks.

“It’s not,” it also doesn’t make sense, then, why Chan’s first line of defence is denial.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” Chan can feel Woojin’s weary smile against the thin skin of his neck. “But we kind of live together. I know you haven’t been sleeping.”

Chan sighs in frustration, then, rubbing his eyes again. “Fuck, it wasn’t supposed to come back.”

“Chan, it’s okay,” Woojin’s arms tighten around him. “The doctor said it’d come and go.”

“Yeah, like, ten years ago, when I was fucking depressed and making emo soundcloud tracks about getting dumped by girls,” Chan gestures in exasperation. “I’m _twenty-six_ now, you’d think-…”

“Chan, insomnia isn’t a baby bonus savings account rewards program, adults can have it too,” Woojin rolls his eyes, turning him around and taking a plastic bag from the kitchen counter. “I got your medication. You’re going to have to settle for your over-the-counter ones until you’re free to go to the therapist together.”

Chan takes the capsule of pills reluctantly, about to turn around and toss some down with his cup of water, when Woojin catches him. “Hey. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he tries to laugh it off, feeling dumb. “It’s just,” his breath catches in his chest, and his smile trembles. “I thought it was over. Thought I won.”

“You didn’t lose,” the other man shrugs, arms wrapping around him and holding him close. “You’re just…still fighting. We’re still fighting.”

Chan lets out a breathy laugh, looking into Woojin’s eyes, feeling the honeyed warmth draw him in like quicksand, drowning him in sweetness. It’s crazy, he thinks with a stuttering breath, how safe he actually feels here in Woojin’s arms, how he’d written songs laughing at the idea of ever finding someone he could be completely himself around, only to realise what an idiot he’d been all this time, that what he wanted had always been his.

Woojin lips are soft and pliant against his, slightly chapped from sleep and tasting of spearmint toothpaste, and Chan ends up being the one chasing after his lips reluctantly once the kiss ends, settling for burying his face in the other man’s neck, breathing in his scent.

Woojin yawns, making Chan yawn too. His smile is soft and sleepy against Chan’s hairline. “Let’s go to bed.”

*

The next morning, it’s not morning when Chan wakes up.

At least, he’s pretty sure it isn’t. The air-conditioning is on and the curtains are closed, so soft purple light filters into the room, wavering as the curtains flutter from the ceiling fan.

He rolls over, rubbing his eyes, then goes still when he realises it’s Felix curled up on the pillow next to him, fast asleep, not Woojin.

It’s three in the _afternoon_, Felix’s naptime. _Wow_, he must’ve slept long. He remembers waking up for breakfast and another round of meds, but nothing other than that.

“Morning,” there’s a whisper, and Woojin pads out silently from the master bathroom, drying his hands on his shorts. He nods at Felix. “I was scared we’d wake you by accident, so we headed out in the morning, but you were still asleep when we got back, and he wanted to be with you,” the other man smooths back Felix’s hair gently. “How do you feel?”

Chan blinks sleepily. “Better. Could sleep some more. Why aren’t you at work?”

“It’s Sunday, remember?” the other man snickers, before sliding in next to Chan, making up for the cold air penetrating the blanket burrito by wrapping himself around Chan. "It's our day."

Chan sighs, even as Woojin starts nipping affectionately at his earlobe from behind, laving lazy kisses down the side of his neck. “Jisung was right.”

Woojin presses a knuckle to his temple. “Please don’t talk about Jisung while I’m trying to kiss you.”

“Okay, sorry,” Chan says placatingly, tapping his cheek with a finger as an indicator for Woojin to continue. The other man just leans over to squint at him, though, the ghost of a smile on his face.

“Now I’m curious. What was he right about?”

“Oh, nothing,” Chan shrugs, but he can’t take his eyes off Woojin, chest filled with a tender ache as he gazes up at him. “I just missed you.”

“I'm right here,” Woojin replies, leaning in to kiss him again, chuckling when Felix snuffles in his sleep, burrowing further into the blanket. “Always have been.”

“I love you.”

Woojin looks surprised, as he usually does when Chan springs this on him, but he leans in this time, pulling Chan in for a hug. And just like that, there's nowhere else he'd rather be.

“Love you too.”

(And just like that, he's home.)

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!!
> 
> i wrote this way back in july last year and rereading it now leaves a bittersweet taste in my mouth, but i hope wherever woojin is now, he's happier ^-^ 
> 
> comments and kudos will be treasured and loved, they really help me write huhu, and do subscribe to the series if you're interested in updates! ;u; thank you and here's to a happier 2020~
> 
> talk with me pls! ;u;  
personal twt: @goldengyeom  
writing twt: @symmetrophobic (locked for qrts but i will accept your follow!!) ೕ(•̀ᴗ•́) 


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